


Nothing Needs to be Said

by Algernon



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Alternate Universe, Human Sacrifice, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Touching, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25506787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Algernon/pseuds/Algernon
Summary: Each year in exchange for not wiping out all Homs Egil picks out a sacrifice from each colony. It's something he's been doing for centuries, but this is the first time he knows who he's going to choose before even getting to the colony.-Short Homs-sacrifice AU with stalkery Egil.
Relationships: Egil/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, here I am, after lurking for years actually posting something. My God, the last time I posted a fanfic it was on FF.net and I was doing the thing where you act like the characters talk to you in the notes. The best and worst days are behind me.
> 
> Please forgive me because I've always been a lurker in fandoms but never actually contributed, so my writing is very sloppy because I haven't had years to refine like so many other talented fanfiction writers. Also, I'm using a free Word ripoff so it's not picking up grammar mistakes as well it could.
> 
> And jeez, I never realised how unintentionally dark this fic turned out until I was tagging it.

It was the final colony to visit for this year's cull. Egil had already visited the other eight colonies and made his selection, but unlike the others he's walking into this one knowing which Homs he's taking with him.

Their vessel landed a ways off from the entrance of the town. From the hull window he could see two Homs running up to greet them, no weapons on them and dressed in their species' formal attire. He smirked as he saw one of them sweating, a primitive creature's response to fear.

Vanea looked to him, upset, as always when they were almost at the end of these visits. She had begged him before they left Mechonis to let this be the year he stops taking sacrifices _because we've perfected the Face transformation, we don't need any more test subjects!_ She failed to understand that he needed to do this to keep these insects in their place, remind them they only lived by his grace alone.

He let them wait outside the vessel for a minute, letting the anticipation sink in, before he opened the door and sent Faces to detach and land out around them. They've learned in the centuries past how pointless it is to attack him, but after so long it became a ceremony of sorts to do this. He gestured Vanea to step out first, she pursed her lips and did as ordered. He followed after her in his own time.

The Homs gave a slow, shaky bow to him, faces red, but he's already looking across the township. This one was peculiarly built on water, something he disdained, and had ancient relics of old Homs weapons rusting around them. He wondered where Shulk is and how long he would have to pretend to care about all the others in the swarm.

Saying nothing, weary from the journey and eager for it to be over, he started walking towards the entrance. He heard Vanea whisper apologies to the officials, as she had done every colony and every year, then follow him, steps falling in line with his own. She probably couldn't keep the sadness from her face, the creatures so preferred to look at her opposed to him when they walked above the crowds. They knew he was the one to be feared, he had heard their theories through the listening devices throughout the colonies on why she follows him and lamenting that she wasn't the one in charge.

As he stepped onto the concrete entrance he could see the first of them lining outside the houses and shops, all standing silently and facing the pathways, most of them had their heads down, the ones that were looking in his direction looked away when they saw him approaching.

He needed to make a show of indifference to all of them, Vanea included, he can't let them know this is a deliberate choice. Most years it isn't, he can pick someone in the first street they walk through or he can wait until the very last stretch of the colony. Some shuffled their locations each year or stayed in the same place, probably because they thought it made their luck better to avoid selection. Truly it didn't, he may recall their faces but he has his own selection process, location in the colony definitely not part of it.

When he had been developing the Faces in the centuries past, he'd taken all variety of Homs. Experimenting with elderly, young, big, weak. How the creatures howled when he took the young ones. They usually died a few days into the Face process anyway, bodies too weak to handle the strain. He hasn't taken children for a few decades now, proving too impractical and a waste of resources, though their parents still held onto their tiny hands tightly as though he continued to snatch them away.

Some would volunteer to be taken and sometimes he takes them up on their offer, sometimes he ignores them. It depended on the offering and how quickly he wanted to get it over with.

The officials hurried along behind him. They weren't safe either, every so often he took one of the guides in case they ever got a sense of security from doing this job.

He slowed as he approached the first lot of houses. He didn't stop walking as he passed the family to his left, appearing to be made of a father, mother and two adult children. Though the son, with dark skin and long hair was openly glaring at him, so unlike all the others that cower. That one was wild, he'd once smashed a camera with a rock and snarled while doing so. He knows this family, has seen them often with Shulk and knows he and the girl Fiora are close with one another. He's learned their names but doesn't pay them any more heed than he needs to and continues walking.

At the Commercial District store owners and patrons alike are standing rigid. A young female with her blonde hair up, clothed in guard uniform stood near the first shop. She held her stare down, chest heaving, and he stopped and stared at her. Maybe next year she would make a good choice and he lets his stare linger enough for her to feel fear, then he continued on. Her crying was the only noise aside the clacking of shoes soon after.

He made a point to stare at them, going as far to stop sometimes or stand in front of some for examination purposes, tilting their heads up with his nails. The insects usually hold their breath while this happened, eyes blown wide, yet he only does it for a few seconds at most, hating having to even touch them. It's irritating having to put on such a performance, he was eager just to take the one he's chosen, but he's been watching him for so long and it wouldn't do to now let his restlessness get the better of him.

He expect he'll see Shulk at the garrison. From his observations the Homs has been spending more time there, resorting to sleeping in the barracks. He was an engineer much like Egil himself, part of which helped hold his attention, always tinkering to create or enhance. If the boy got his hands on Machina technology he likes to imagine the things he could make.

He frowned, causing the bugs near him to sink their heads further down.

He resents himself for imagining what would make a Homs happy, that wasn't the reason why he was choosing him. It wasn't meant to be, but he'd been watching him since he was four and had along the way learnt his dislike and likes, the people that made him happy or annoyed. He matured into a compassionate young adult, sweet-natured and highly intelligent. He liked the boy, which wasn't supposed to have happened. He acknowledged he now wanted this Homs for reasons other than experimentation yet he'd rather throw himself into the endless sea before admitting what the yearning was.

The same yearning that flared whenever he saw him laugh with friends or smile to himself while working on a machine. It had become troublesome. Watching him on the screens back in Agniratha had become his preferred pastime, in private where he was sure Vanea or even the thoughtless Mechon wouldn't see him. His favourite things to watch were when he would experience something for the first time, events like his first time driving, his first taste of alcohol, things Machina had no use for and Egil could not provide.

Five months ago he'd been watching him sleep and dragged his nails along the smooth, hard screen where his blonde hair was displayed. When his hand bumped the metal frame it had jolted him back and he'd ripped the screen away in a rage, possessed by a longing so unlike the urges he'd felt over the past thousands of years, hating the feeling, hating that he hadn't watched for just a little longer. No more, he decided then and there, no more would he suffer whatever this affliction was. He'd take Shulk and do what needs to be done.

The Homs guards along the bridge held themselves with more respect than the rest of the flock, heads up, eyes forward, not looking at him but not going out of their way to avoid him coming into their line of sight. They didn't even react when the Faces hovering above them got close enough to rustle their hair. He examined a dark skinned one with blonde hair near the entrance, who responded by raising his shoulders and controlling his quickened breathing, then moved on again.

Taking soldiers was ideal, they had always made the best candidates for the Face units that he allowed to keep their Mechonised body. They'd noticed his preference as well, but he'd slowed down in recent years as the Face numbers became plentiful and he had to focus on his goal for Shulk, it had to be realised safely without the body's death. He'd worked with all kinds of Homs' bodies until he was certain he'd perfected it, then worked on it further just to guarantee that. All prototype Homs had been destroyed eventually as they were unneeded regardless of the successes they had been.

The guards were filed in lines in the courtyard and training grounds, facing inward so he could see their faces as he passed them, presented to him like a sacrifice upon a Giants' alter. He spotted Shulk in one of the lines together with the other researchers and non-combative personal, he was looking straight forward with his arms frozen down his sides. Egil forced his excitement down. He was certain it was only impatience making him feel such a way and it wouldn't do to act out of character in front of the bugs, nerve-wrecked things they were already.

He stopped and examined a few of them, some of them impressive and he internally acknowledged any other year he probably would have chosen them. Not many of them looked relieved when he gave their chins a slight push to inform them they were not to be taken and to remain in line. They no longer fled after he'd disregarded them as they once had hundreds of years ago and he believed it had become a silent tradition among them to watch whoever was taken leave the colony, perhaps as a sign of respect.

At long last he was at the head of the line Shulk was in, the boy was just before the middle section. He could get away without examining anyone else in this line, he'd done it with a few of them and they wouldn't think anything unusual of it. A few strides and he'd be before him in person, no longer behind a monitor. Each year he had passed Shulk and ensured he'd barely glanced at him, this was finally when could show him some attention.

He came to a stop in front of his chosen. He turned and looked down at him and saw his body tighten as he prepared himself for inspection. He was so little, he lacked the muscles so many of the guards had. Homs' biology was curious, so varied and ever-changing compared to the Machina. Somewhere though, within that delicate body, was Zanza, held prisoner by his own foolish scheming.

Egil reached out, index finger curled and used his knuckle to tilt his soft chin up. It took Shulk's gaze a few seconds to follow, when they did his round, blue eyes were steady.

Something fluttered in Egil's chest. He pictured all the machines he'd switched on in his lifetime, dormant one moment and then fully functioning the next, that's how he felt his possessiveness come to life. He knew then he was right in his plans, that he would see this Homs eternally bound to him even if it meant keeping that disgusting god with him at all times.

The boy's eyebrows fell. He knew, he knew that he was going to be taken, he must have seen something in Egil's expression.

Dropping from his chin, Egil lowered his hand, nails lightly brushing his soft neck, then reached into his red jacket and gripped it's open fold, pulling hard enough that Shulk stumbled out of the precise line into the space between all his fellow guards, on display for the rest. He didn't need to verbalise it, that was clear enough.

Locking eyes with him once more he saw fear and resignation in them. An urge to reassure him rose in his chest, though he didn't entertain the idea of doing so, instead he turned on his heel and marched forward. He heard a shaky breath from behind then steps start to follow. Good, he wasn't going to beg or try to run away like many had done before him.

He didn't look at Vanea despite her obvious attempt to invoke guilt with her eyes, sadness etching her features. As he passed her he saw her walk forward to Shulk, no doubt to whisper words of comfort and let him walk alongside her.

The atmosphere had changed, he sensed anger from the creatures around him. It was to be expected, Shulk was a popular Homs and barely into what they classified as adulthood, they were all likely upset he was selected. They wouldn't attack him if they were smart though, but he saw more than a few clenched fists as he passed the lines.

No need to have to go through all this again each section of the colony. He brought up his controls for his vessel and called it to land on the Central Plaza. Shulk would not be joining him, as much as he wanted him to it would tip Vanea off too soon, a Face would enclose him and take him separately back to Mechonis. Despite never once having an issue with this process he felt concern that something could happen to him during the passage home, it was another emotion Egil had to quash down.

The transport came to a smooth landing under the roof on the bridge. Egil didn't break his pace and ordered the door open. Finally the whole process was almost over.

A Face slammed inelegantly down next to him and steadied itself for transport, sinking down and spreading open it's chest cavity. He allowed himself the indulgence of stopping and gesturing Shulk to step in, who was shaking and couldn't keep his expression composed anymore, dismay and tears welling at the base of his eyes.

Surprisingly enough, another Homs had followed them. Egil noticed him when stopping, a big tanned one with red hair who was standing in the connecting bridge, shoulders hunched and expression matching Shulk's. The guards along the railings were uncomfortable with that one's display and cast their eyes downwards, perhaps to allow them a moment of privacy. This one too was a Homs Shulk was close with, he had seen them spend their whole childhood together.

Shulk followed his line of sight and gasped when he saw his friend. A single tear fell down his cheek. The other Homs was bold, or possibly didn't care about retribution, and ran forward and embraced him, nuzzling his face into blonde hair. Shulk returned the hold and tightened his arms around him. The friend was smart enough to look at Egil then to gauge his response, maybe to figure out his punishment, failing to realise he was not a cruel being and would allow this last act of affection, he always had.

He stared at them for a few seconds longer and turned away, stepping into the vessel. Vanea would be the one to separate them and usher Shulk into the Face. Seeing his Homs upset made him uncomfortable.


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time in thousands of years, Egil was at peace. The process had gone smoothly, Zanza had been trapped and no more would anyone of this world fear a god's wrath. Shulk came out exactly as planned, he silently rejoiced whilst twisting blonde hair with his nails, and any time he got those distracting urges for affection he could act on them how he pleased.

His self control had slipped away shortly after returning to Mechonis as if to mock him for the years of waiting. It was standard procedure to separate the Homs into their own cells and they were usually drugged immediately and prepared for surgery. He observed Shulk standing alone in his small room, looking bleakly at the four walls and convinced himself to delay his plan, just for a while, to have him as he was for a little longer.

It had been unexpectedly thrilling to know Shulk was so close and not a titan away as he had always been, the monitors suddenly no longer sufficient. He'd let the Homs exist in his cell for a week under close observation before he couldn't contain himself any more and sent Mechon to bring him to a small chamber. It wasn't dangerous, the Monado was safely locked away in the Mechonis Core and there was no risk of Zanza emerging. He'd ensured the room was warm for a Homs' sensitive body and private so Vanea had no way of interrupting. She still had no idea one of the Homs was still preserved, too disgusted with him after they'd returned she had retreated to Mechonis Field for an indefinite amount of time.

He'd taken a few minutes to compose himself before stepping in. There was something trying to rise in him, something close to excitement but more dangerous and that he hesitated to name. Shulk had looked at him in trepidation when he'd stepped into the room, likely anticipating torture and pointless suffering.

Egil had told himself it was for study purposes only, study for why out of all the Homs Zanza killed that day he chose to resurrect this one and enable it to grow to adulthood. He wanted to find any sign of the fatal injury, he told himself as he gripped his red vest – or maybe it was a jacket – and pushed it off his shoulders. His body acting separately to his mind, his hands had glided down, nails slipped up under the hem of his woollen shirt and pulled the thick material off, the Homs compliantly raising his arms to make it easier. It had progressed until he'd stood before him in only those undergarments they were so sensitive about, clothes and boots scattered around.

He'd circled him once, taking in all the small marks he'd accrued over the years from minor injuries, injuries Egil knew all the stories of. There had been no indication he had ever been killed, no sign whatsoever of what Zanza had done.

That was where he made his only mistake, if it even warranted being referred to as such, in all this. The image of Shulk standing before him, arms folded across his stomach and looking to the side, doing his hardest not to look at him, so...fragile and bared, expression discontented with shame if he had to name it, had been like pouring ether into deprived engine.

His hand had been shaking he'd fought so hard to control himself, reaching out and touching the yellow hair at long last, nails slipping into it. His forehead beneath had been extraordinarily warm so he'd allowed the pad on his thumb to caress it a little then move down to his cheek. Even when he'd snatched the boy's shoulders and pulled him forward Shulk hadn't looked at him. Whatever he had been expecting there was no ambiguity for what this really was and Egil was past lying to himself at that point, too blinded by desire, lust so painful within him he could barely stand.

Shulk's blonde hair fell over his face as Egil nuzzled the side of his head like he'd seen his friend do at the colony the day he was taken. Still he didn't look at him. Machina were not built for sex the same way Homs were, he reminded himself, trying to cool down by exploring with hands instead, fearing the harm he could bring with his hunger. The boy had whimpered, not in pleasure, when Egil pushed him down onto the metal floor, lying pliantly as he drew his nails gently across his body, bent over him on his hands and knees.

He'd fought against the desire so desperately he'd felt physical agony. He, the ruler of Mechonis, who had survived a god's assault and built an army that kept a whole species under his thumb, was brought to his knees by something so animal, so _primitive_. He was better than this, he reminded himself as he traced the pale collarbone, fighting to reign in carnality, ordering his body to let this be enough.

Hair was completely covering Shulk's eyes but he could see the same resignation and fear. Egil softly bit the side of the jaw that he had access to, commanding himself that would be the last action he would succumb to that day.

In the month after he'd had no interactions with the Homs, embarrassed by the craving he'd so freely displayed. Yet he felt better despite it all, likely the metaphorical edge having been taken off he'd been able to proceed in an even mind.

He abstained from seeing Shulk in person again until he was prepared to put his plan in motion. He flooded the boy's room with gas that eased him into unconsciousness, carried him to the operating room and readied all necessary tools and machinery. He'd been so light, body soft and thin from the beginnings of muscle loss, only stimulus since arriving the books Egil found himself giving to the Mechon to deliver with meals. He knew all of Shulk's favourites and took some of them as a tithe this year.

He'd got himself into a state operating the machine he'd spent centuries designing for this very purpose, Shulk lying in it blissfully comatose. At long last, he located him. Displayed on the visualiser in front of him, appropriately only showing a fictitious representation, a swirling nebula of gold and silver, was Zanza.

Egil had laughed then, loud and victorious. He was right, all these years he had been right. Years ago he'd allowed a group of Homs researchers to hunt down the Monado and when only one had survived Ose Tower he'd known exactly who Zanza's new host was. None of the bugs could comprehend what had happened to their peers, but Egil knew. He'd taken the Monado and kept it hidden away, watching Shulk intensely for years in case Zanza had another way to emerge.

But he couldn't. Unable to access the Monado he could only exist within Shulk, no control and no power. Egil would keep him that way for all time, he'd force him into a stalemate that would never end. That wasn't to say the Bionis' god didn't have some sway, as predicted he was Shulk's very life force and when Egil had started gloating the Homs' readings had plummeted. Zanza was trying to escape through death.

Egil was prepared, he wouldn't allow Zanza to get away so easily and wouldn't allow that to happen to Shulk. The operation had been quick and gone perfectly. After completion he had access to the Homs' mind, so Egil had planted undying loyalty and a shackle to obey him alone. Shulk could keep the memories of his times as a Homs, albeit modified here and there where advantageous.

He had decided while tweaking his mind that there was nothing wrong with surrendering to the yearning. It had been so long since he'd had companionship aside from his sister, who could spend years at a time not speaking with him and whenever she did it was to implore him for something. He'd had a taste of what he had every right to take and it wouldn't do to leave Shulk in this state for all time without some tenderness. So he indulged.

Shulk was with him now, on his knees besides his chair, head and arms laying in his lap, staring vacantly across Agniratha while Egil stroked his hair. He was fully Mechonised, much more lovingly than the Faces he churned out. He had been meticulous about keeping the body the same, the only signs that he was no longer fully Homs were the lines schematically placed on his body and the non-organic glow of his blue eyes. All the remaining Homs biology in him had been enhanced in some way to keep him immortal. His skin was now artificial, though he would still feel like a regular Homs. His hair had been imbued with fibre to keep it from wearing away. His organs, brain and remaining blood had been flooded with a strengthening agent that would enable it to last for all time akin to the Machina. He was adorned in the finest quality gear his forges could make, something pleasing to Egil's eye.

Affixed to the centre of his chest was a golden triangle, locking Zanza to Shulk forever, forcing him to sustain his life and unable to run to a new host. Incapable of awakening the Bionis or accessing the Monado, he was forever imprisoned.

He was sure he would tell the full story to Shulk one day when he gave him more free will, but for now he was Egil's to enjoy as he pleased. He liked to keep him close when he went about his daily business, satisfied that his presence was always a few steps behind him. Twice he'd set him up in a laboratory, deliberately designed similar to his one back at the colony, where he'd shown great promise. He had smiled as he built, something Egil delighted in seeing in person for the first time.

Vanea had returned months after he trapped Zanza, confused by the high amount of detail put into Shulk, more confused by Egil's gentle mood. He had told her everything he'd hidden from her all these years, allowed her to rage at him for his secrecy, apologising soon after for how distant he had been for so long. She remained uneasy of how he treated Zanza's vessel yet didn't push him on it too much.

This year when she'd begged him to stop taking Homs he agreed. She hadn't believed him at first, thinking he had something worse planned. It took him a while to understand why he agreed this time himself. He had Zanza trapped and his position was secure, truly there was no need to take any more Homs, somewhere over the last year he lost the desire to remind them of their place. This would be the first year in centuries he wouldn't take sacrifices. Who knows, give it another thousand and he might even take his hold off the Bionis for good. It would have to be a slow process, one that would force them to gradually forget about the atrocities he'd inflicted upon them to avoid attempted revenge, but it may be possible.

Giving one last stroke to Shulk's hair he indicated for him to stand, unable to resist clasping his chin and running his nail over the lips that belonged to him, then sent him to the other side of the room away from view. It wouldn't end well if any Homs saw what became of him.

The camera in front of him indicated it was on and he readied himself to make the announcement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egil gets off pretty easy in most fics and I'm definitely not against the slice of life stories we have with him, but he's been committing mass genocide against a species for as long as they can remember and almost all named NPCs in the game have lost family members to Mechon. I wanted to put emphasis on how he views himself during the game before Shulk knocks some sense into him.
> 
> Also, this isn't even the only “Egil Mechonises Shulk” fic idea I have, but frankly I'm still amazed I actually wrote something after all this time so who knows if there's more to come.


End file.
